


Three Ways to Never Say "I Love You"

by lumateranlibrarian



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 16:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12752169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumateranlibrarian/pseuds/lumateranlibrarian
Summary: Inquisitor Cadash is better with actions than with words.





	Three Ways to Never Say "I Love You"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [worstcommander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstcommander/gifts).



_ I. Skyhold _

 

“Thank you, Commander. I will see myself out.”

“Have a good night, Cassandra.”

From across the office, his eyes flickered down to the sheath of papers tucked under Cassandra’s arm. He smirked, and her eyes widened. She tightened her elbow over the thick stack of requisitions protectively.

_ He can’t possibly know about Varric’s latest chapter! _

The chapter in question was currently tucked between two reports from the Storm Coast.

_ Retreat is… only strategic. _

Her face burning, she twisted sharply on her heel. The Commander’s quiet chuckles followed her out onto the battlements as the door to his office swung shut behind her. A beat later, squinting into the night, she frowned. In her haste to escape, she must have chosen the wrong exit. This was not the path to Solas’ rotunda.

There was a bite to the air, and a sharp breeze ruffled her stack of papers. She twitched reflexively to keep them from flying away. As she did so, a dark shape separated itself from the wall of the battlements not three feet ahead of her.

“Cassandra?”

Cassandra’s blush didn’t fade, but she relaxed at the familiar voice nonetheless. “Benyl. Are you here to speak with the Commander?”

The Inquisitor huffed a quiet laugh. “No.”

Cassandra tried again. “Were you…”

“... taking a break from dealing with the latest round of noble benefactors,” Benyl admitted, and there was an apologetic smile in her voice. “This corner is the only one up here dark enough to see Draconis and Judex. Peraquialis is somewhere over there.” She gestured vaguely at the night sky up and through the Commander’s tower.

Benyl Cadash loved constellations. Hunting down the ancient astrariums speckled across the southern continent was one of the few luxuries she took for herself, happily dragging her party along in her wake at the end of each successful campaign. Not that Cassandra minded. Mapping the stars was a small reward for a far greater service.

She glanced down along the empty battlements, then back to Benyl. “The dragon and the sword?”

“I hate boats,” Benyl declared. There was a note of perverse glee in the other woman’s voice.

Cassandra snorted. “I am aware.”

Benyl stepped up to her. “I do  _ not, _ however, hate you,” she promised, and reached up to hook her gloved fingers into the collar of Cassandra’s breastplate. “Quite the opposite actually.” She pulled Cassandra down into a brief but warm kiss. It was a wonderful balm against the chill wind, and Cassandra leaned closer, cupping Benyl’s face with her free hand.

“Shall I leave you be?” Cassandra asked when she pulled away.

She felt more than saw the Inquisitor shake her head. “No. I was about to head in anyways. Can I walk you back to the hall?”

“I would like that a great deal, Inquisitor.”

With a wide smile, Benyl stuck out her elbow in an exaggerated gesture, and Cassandra laughed quietly. She tucked her hand into the other woman’s arm. “A starlit walk?” she wondered. “It is romantic.”

Benyl hummed happily. Self-satisfaction seemed to roll off of her in waves.

 

_ II. Orlais _

 

Across the ballroom, the Inquisitor shot Cassandra a desperate look.

_ Let’s get out of here. _

Cassandra was too tired to do anything except tilt her head towards the ornately-gilded doors.

_ I am ready when you are. _

Benyl’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly with relief. She turned back to the Empress, murmuring something that Cassandra was simply too far away to hear. The Empress’ lips quirked downwards. Cassandra rolled her eyes as Benyl brought Celene’s knuckles to her lips dramatically. 

Luckily, it seemed to do the job. With a wave of her fan, the Empress “dismissed” the Inquisitor. Benyl bowed at the waist, then turned and made a beeline straight for Cassandra.

“Cassandra, dearest, light of my life, get me the  _ fuck _ out of here,” Benyl muttered as soon as she was within earshot.

Cassandra coughed to cover her laugh, and nodded solemnly. “This way, Inquisitor.”

The crowds of hapless nobles parted before her glare, and she cut a path through the crowd like a sword through snow. Unlike the Inquisitor, Cassandra could get away with expressing their collective, well-earned exasperation. Assassins, murder, intrigue, betrayal; tonight could have been scripted by Varric himself. It was decidedly less entertaining when one was actually in the midst of things. All of Benyl’s other companions had excused themselves for the night. It was not without reason, of course, but Cassandra resolutely refused to leave the Inquisitor to face the remaining hordes of conspiring Orlesians alone.

Shouldering past two dukes and a marquise, they finally managed to slip into the small and blessedly empty vestibule that led to the guests’ quarters. The moment the painted blue door shut, Benyl ripped off her leather gloves and shoved them into her belts. She folded her fingers between Cassandra’s with an impatient huff.

“I’d ask you to dance, Beautiful, but… gods, are we, are we old?” she yawned. “I’m exhausted.”

“I believe exhaustion is a natural response to such a night,” she answered, as diplomatically as she could. Truthfully, she was a bit disappointed, but could hardly fault the Inquisitor for wanting to get away. 

The Inquisitor’s chuckle was slightly hoarse. Benyl lifted their entwined hands to her lips, and kissed one of Cassandra’s bruised knuckles gently.

“What did I ever do,” she murmured.

Cassandra waited curiously, but Benyl didn’t elaborate as they walked down the hall together. When she did speak again, there was a strange, halting quality to her words.

“My rooms are closer. You could stay. It’s not… not dancing, but I could send someone for wine. If you wanted.”

It was through force of will that Cassandra managed not to snap her head down to stare at her. She took a slow breath, hoping that Benyl would not pick up on the way her heart stuttered in surprise. Then she turned to the other woman.

“That would be lovely, Benyl.”

Benyl’s eyes lit up, sparkling like granite in the sun.

 

_ III. Storm Coast _

 

“What were you thinking?”

Cassandra hissed as Solas smeared more the foul-smelling poultice over the wound on her shoulder. His hands were ruthless, prodding and poking at the bite to cover it with paste. In front of them both, the Inquisitor paced furiously.

“What were you  _ thinking?” _ Benyl repeated.

Cole poked his head under the tent flap.

“Not her, not with her armor, the runes won’t stop the flames. Bodies blackened and veins turned green with rot from the teeth, not her, not  _ her.” _

The Inquisitor sucked in a sharp breath. She whirled and pointed a finger at the boy warningly.  _ “Not _ now, Cole!”

Cole winced, and withdrew as quickly as he’d come. Cassandra exchanged a disapproving glance with Solas, whose face had a sour twist to it. When Benyl turned around again, and saw their expressions, she flinched, and ran a hand through her hair.

“Shit,” she muttered. She shot a dark look at Cassandra. “We are going to talk about this,” she warned, and stomped out of the tent. “Wait a minute, Cole!”

Cassandra allowed her posture to drop by half a degree once Benyl was gone. She glared at the thick canvas wall in front of her while Solas continued to heal her shoulder. The dragonling had managed to get in a bite at the perfect angle, through plates of armor, hardened leather, and mail. The chances of such a wound, given were infinitesimal.

_ For a dragonling to bite through a rogue’s leathers, however… _

The chill prickle of Solas’ magic pulled her from her thoughts. She looked at her shoulder just in time to see several small, gleaming glyphs sink into the layer of poultice and disappear.

“That will do,” Solas said shortly. “Rest. The bite should be clean in a few hours. We will re-dress it then.” He helped Cassandra lower herself back to her sleeping roll, and then left. 

Cassandra shifted until she could lie comfortably without putting weight on her injury. She stared up at the top of the tent, gritting her teeth in frustration. When her jaw began to creak, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself into a doze.

Some time later—her efforts to sleep apparently having been successful—she felt a gentle tug followed by a sharp sting over her shoulder. She flinched, and tried to sit up. A small but heavy hand pressed her back. 

“Sorry. Don’t do that.” 

“Inquisitor?”

The other woman had a wet rag in her hand and a small pile of clean bandages in her lap. Next to her, there was a small bowl of fresh-smelling elfroot paste. Her eyes were focused firmly on Cassandra’s exposed shoulder. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. This is going to sting. Again.”

Her gaze flickered to meet Cassandra’s, and then she continued to wipe away the dried layer of poultice on Cassandra’s shoulder. It  _ did _ sting, and she clenched her jaw against the sharp, hot stabs of pain.

Benyl worked methodically and quietly. 

“I was terrified, Cassandra. It’s not an excuse, but… I  _ really _ thought that was it, when it threw you.”

It shouldn’t have made some of the tension in her body trickle away, but somehow, Cassandra found herself relaxing by the smallest of degrees. 

“I am not just your… your partner,” she began, changing her words as soon as she saw apprehension flash across Benyl’s face. Something indescribable in her ached. “I am your protector in battle. I am the  _ Inquisitor’s _ protector.”

Benyl exhaled roughly. Her hands slowed, and then stopped. Her head fell forward, and she seemed to stare right through Cassandra’s unwrapped shoulder. After a few moments, a muscle in her jaw twitched, and she looked back up.

“Counter-proposal.”

“This is not a  _ transaction, _ Benyl.”

“Counter-proposal,” she insisted. “You are the Inquisitor’s protector. But you’re also...  _ my partner. _ I care about it, when you’re in danger. More than I care about anybody else. I’d change places with you in a heartbeat, and I wouldn’t care, if it meant that you were all right.” She gripped Cassandra’s hand in both of hers. “Do you…” she swallowed. “Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

She did. “I… will admit to wishing you would say it. But yes. I do.”

“I  _ will,” _ Benyl promised, and she raised Cassandra’s hand to her cheek. “I’m trying, Beautiful. I am. One day, I will.”

Cassandra smiled faintly. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
